Class 1-A With A Fem! Quirkless Reader! Cold, Reserved, Yet Polite And Soft Spoken When Talking, S/O

Class 1-A with a fem! Quirkless reader! Cold, reserved, yet polite and soft spoken when talking, S/O may as well be an Ice Queen. Growing up alone with no love in exchange for massive training and tons of combat experience in illegal underground rings, making her one of the strongest students. Also, she has countless scars and burn marks all over her body from neck to toe, which she conceals by wearing scarfs, gloves, winter clothes. Class 1-A and some teachers reactions?

Characters: Class 1-A, All Might and Aizawa (really brief Recovery Girl and Nezu)

Genre: General, Minor h/c if you really squint, minor angst if you squint really hard + HCs

CW: Abuse (briefly stated but no in-depth descriptions + physical aftermath talked about), F!Reader (uses the girl's change room but other than that nothing else), all relations are platonic

a/n: Hi anon! Thanks for the request (only took me forever lol), hope you like it :)

Honestly, everyone thought that you were either cold or that the extra layers had something to do with your quirk. Both were plausible conclusions and there had been no other indication it could be some other reason. However, within the first week, the quirk theory was debunked.

Of course, this bred questions upon questions. How the hell did you pass the entrance exam quirkless? And just what are you capable of doing out of the field?

When the opportunity was presented, many not so subtly hinted at you to join the first round of the exercise. Finally, they’d get to see what you can do! Come the end of your round let’s just say they easily understood why you passed the entrance exam and never questioned it again.

This also left them with their final - and only - conclusion that the bundle of clothes you wear is due to you being cold. A few ask if you’d like them to turn the heat up so you could take off an article or two, though you always decline. So be it, they don’t push.

Midoriya has tremendous respect, adoration and idolization for you. Whether he lets it be known or not really just depends on the day. After all, you made it to UA quirkless, the one thing he thought was unachievable. Hell, the whole class may have some ounce of respect for you, seeing as the achievement is inspiring.

They all care very little about your personality or how you first come off. Deep down you’re nice and kind and polite and that's all that mattered to them. You’ll come around eventually, most do.

It's the girls that find out about your little secrets first. Concealing 101 and you trip up; a rookie mistake while changing after class. Shocked and horrified gasps are all you need to hear to know you've let one of the nastier scars show.

Whether you tell them the truth, just some of it or none at all, most will be on the verge of tears. No matter what you say though, they all know that tremendous pain is linked to that mark and insist on reporting it to the police. No accident would leave those scars. And if not the police then at least Mr. Aizawa or All Might (of course, none force you to take this step. They know it's not their place).

Regardless of how much your story was told the ladies all silently agreed to never let slip what they saw that evening. Unfortunately, everyone else knows by the end of the week; another, similar mistake regarding a looser shirt on a warm day slipping down just right being the cause.

It’s more wide-eyed looks than a verbal reaction. You're tossing between running or letting things play out naturally. However, given how your body is locked in freeze mode you don't think you have much of a say. Only when the looks of understanding, curiosity and sympathy (or is it pity?) register are you able to get to your feet. You're making a beeline down the hall and to the safety of your room where no one can see the darker parts of yourself. Unfortunately, it all comes to a crashing halt (literally) when you run into Mr. Aizawa.

Even though he was able to stop you both from falling over the wind is still knocked from his lungs. There’s a quick scolding on the tip of his tongue, something about no running or watching where you’re going, but it quickly dies off when he sees what’s got everyone silent.

The scars are one thing, they’re marks he’s seen often on both himself and others. No, what really has his heart dropping to the pits of his stomach is the branded insignia etched into your skin. He knows it far too well but it’s also something he never thought to see again.

Coming to his senses a mumbled, “…be careful next time," is what leaves his mouth instead, carefully letting you go to walk off to your room. Whatever the Pro Hero was going to say to everyone before doesn't come, instead, he too turns back the way he came. There are some things he has to think about about.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, Aizawa's mind plagued with memories from years ago. He knows that you can't save everyone, it's not always possible, but he could have sworn he and a few others rescued all the victims from the underground ring case. If you slipped under the radar then just how many others did he and his team miss?

There’s a mix of rage and guilt swirling in his chest as he finally drifts off. Aizawa knows what went on in that illegal organization and to think you went through more than you had to because of his negligence? He’ll be kicking himself for it for a while.

Come morning - a weekend thankfully - there were a few ways Aizawa thought to approach this. One was to relay this information to the other Pro Heroes, the ring could still be happening for all they know. The second option was to call you into his office in the dorms and talk with you. Of course, the second option was what he went with.

The room was thick with awkwardness; you, unsure why you'd been called in, and Aizawa was unsure where to begin exactly.

"That symbol... I know, (L/N)." Your teacher didn't have to say much more for you to get where the conversation was heading. He asked if there were others still out there and if there were if you would share their location and any names you might know. Though, he paused in his onslaught upon seeing you curl into yourself.

"Sorry. I just..." want to help. To stop the monsters that do these things to the innocent.

He gives you a moment to calm down before asking if it was alright to continue. Aizawa went slower with his questions, fetching you some water to sip on throughout and staying quiet as you spoke until you were done.

He's a man that gets straight to the point, and at times a man of few words, but he knew that no words would be able to convey how grateful he is or how proud he is that you told him all you could. Even if you couldn't or didn't tell much, it doesn't erase how brave you are for trying.

You have yet to gain your hero license but already you're saving lives. "Thank you."

With your permission, Aizawa told the other Pros that he felt should know. All Might was one of them. He took the news harder than Aizawa did, having worked on the case as well, but he was the one that proudly and confidently stated that all victims had been saved. That every villain was apprehended and that no one else was to be harmed because of them. What a joke - he sees now what a liar he was.

The former number one apologies to you. Full on “I’m sorry... for failing you...” because that’s what he believes he’s done. And in some ways, that's what he did. While others got to go home to whatever families they had or live better lives, you sat chained to a cold and lonely routine, unable to leave the side of the group who used you for their own personal monetary gain and sick entertainment. But perhaps, another part of you wants to forgive, because you too know that the operation was huge and that there are always those few that aren't found. Who are you to hold it against them when they obviously did all they could? Besides, it's not their fault for being deceived - told by those they caught that they had everyone, that there was no one else to catch.

When you were advised that Recovery Girl might be able to patch up and ease the more prominent scars, you weren't sure what to do or say. Still, you figured it wouldn't hurt to go and see her. The moment the little old lady peeked at your skin her smile faded. Before, she had kept a conversation going with you but now she continued her examination in silence. She'd been told what to roughly expect but she couldn't be prepared for the sheer volume of it all.

As soon as the old woman finished she told it to you straight: "I'm sorry dear. At best I can give you something to allow them to fade but I make no guarantee that any would disappear." Despite the news, you thank her and leave with the cream and ointment she prescribed.

Nezu asked for you to visit him a few days later. While keeping his cheery tone he told you that if at any point you couldn't complete an assignment, accommodations would be made for you. After all, he wishes for all UA students to be safe and succeed - you included. (And perhaps it's because he too understood a fraction at least of what you'd gone through. He knew the trials it takes to get back on your feet and that there is no easy, straightforward path.)

Your friends encourage you at times to shed the scarf or jacket you wear around the dorm, assuring you that your scars don't scare them and that they won't judge you for them. While old habits are very hard to break (especially when tied to something traumatic, something that each of your classmates understands is hard to unravel) there are times when you can let yourself breathe just a little easier and stay cool during the warmer months. In these times, it's the little achievements that go a long way.

The whole class makes it so that they watch their tones and movements - they don't want to accidentally bring forth a memory. Half the class already was pretty quiet but it's students like Bakugou that you can really see the change in. Anyone can see that if you're around his voice isn't as loud compared to before, or that there are fewer and fewer times his hands will pop with mini explosions. Midoriya, Mina, Ida, Uraraka, Denki and Kirishima become more aware to tone down their own voices as well, knowing that they can get pretty loud at times. Shouji watched where his extra limbs were and Tokoyami instructed Dark Shadow to not creep up on you.

Todoroki will sometimes randomly come up to you and share a tip or two on how to care for your burns (both long-term and for any more recent ones should there be any) while Midoriya tells you how he personally maintains his scarring.

There was only once that everyone collectively told you that you could talk to them if you'd like. A few pointed out that if you were told repeatedly then you might be inclined to not reach out, hence their decision. Teachers, classmates, whoever, you could talk to them if you want or need to. Each of them would be there for you no matter what and they want to make that clear. Whether you reached out or not is up to you.

Tag list: @tickotaku // @dorkylittleweirdo // @thylocalcrackhead //@unidentifiedzombie // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @lordbugs // @akiria12167

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pro hero eraserhead

Delicate

pairing: aizawa shouta x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: sometimes you just need to be taken care of

warnings: just fluff. reader has long hair.

a/n: this is so self indulgent. i don't even care.

Something is wrong the moment the door opens. Actually, something has been wrong since 1:28 p.m. when you didn’t respond to his text message. You never leave him on read, even on your busiest days. Shouta listens as the door locks behind you, as you slide your shoes off your feet. His eyebrows raise when your bag drops to the floor with an echoing thud. His gaze follows you as you amble to your shared bedroom where you disappear out of sight.

It’s silent as he stands in the kitchen, cup of tea in hand. Brows no longer raised, but furrowed. Only slightly relieved when he hears the bath water running. He knows it when he sees it—half the time it’s from his own reflection. Odd being on the other end. Very rarely, if ever, do you get burnt out. Worn down, exhausted, dragon your feet. It never matters, that’s just how you are. But there are times, like today. Shouta sighs, leaving his tea to go cold before trailing after you.

You stand next to the tub staring as you wait for the water to warm up. You’ve got your bra, panties, and one sock on. Your fingers dance under the faucet. It’s been a long day. The only thing that’s kept you going is the man you left in the kitchen. You rub at your chest, pain scraping along your ribcage. Your heart rattles for the comfort only your husband can bring you. It’s not fair, you know that. There’s no way you want him to see you like this. Your temper flares as you think of the prick who ruined your day.

The door opens silently. So caught up in your frustrations you don’t feel the presence of Shouta until cool fingers are wrapping around the back of your neck. You start, turning to look at him over your shoulder. His eyebrows are raised as he takes you in; a peculiar expression on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You never jump.” He murmurs before shaking his head.

You follow without a thought, no fuss even though you frown when he pulls you into him. Skilled fingers undoing the clasp at your back. The tension leaves you when Shouta drops to his knees before you. His warm breath against your skin causes goosebumps to erupt. Always so responsive, even to the little things. But that’s not what this is about, not what you need. Shouta peels your underwear down your legs. Teeth digging into your lip to keep yourself from giggling when he pulls off your sock.

A heat spreads through you. Warm and comforting. No, this doesn’t happen often. Where you’re unsure of yourself, overworked, and burnt out. But as you watch him, Shouta, your Shouta, your husband. The one person you never have to hide from. He knows you better than you know yourself, sometimes it’s downright terrifying. He sees you for everything you are and everything you’re not. You feel silly now, trying to hide yourself away from him.

The atmosphere in the bathroom changes then. Shouta gives you a soft smile accompanied by a kiss to your inner thigh. He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t have to. Getting to his feet he moves to the cabinet and grabs your favorite scent of bathing oil. Your bottom lip wobbles a bit. He kisses your forehead as he helps you into the tub. You can’t bite back the moan that escapes you. Your muscles have been coiled so tight all day. The warm water is a welcome balm. Tilting your head back you watch him as he drags the stool over closer to where you are. Shouta gives you a wink, sitting down before pulling your hair out of your face.

It’s silent in the small bathroom, comfortably so. The only sounds coming from Shouta’s hands dipping into the water as he washes your hair. It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks. Who knew the weight of the world would come crashing down off your shoulders on a Wednesday afternoon? But was it really? Blunt nails scratch at your scalp and you sink a little further into the water. What’s a rough day when you can come home to this?

Your lips tilt up, Shouta’s voice cutting through the silence, your name floating with the steam from the tub. A soft hum of acknowledgment is all he receives.

“Are you going to tell me what happened today?”

A wet shoulder raises and falls, water rippling around you. You stare at your feet, wiggling your blue polished toes.

“There’s a guy at work who’s gunning for my position.”

His hands pause. “You have relations with every hero in the city.”

“I know. It’s not like my position is up for grabs or anything. He’s just a real piece of work. Drives me up a damn wall.” It’s silent for a moment, you sigh. “He’s a misogynist, doesn’t think I’m qualified.”

You can feel Shouta’s glare. Never one to fight your battles, you’re good at doing that yourself. That’s not to say your husband isn’t protective of you.

“Should I stop by for a visit at lunch tomorrow?”

You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t even think he knows what my last name is.”

Shaking your head with a small sigh. You have to admit you do feel better after talking. But you don’t want to talk about it anymore. You don’t want to waste any more of your time on it. That’s tomorrow’s problem. Tilting your head back, you look up at Shouta who looks down his nose at you. Dark eyes swirling with adoration and amusement. He raises an eyebrow when you reach up and tug on his dark locks.

“Will you read to me?”

“I can. Anything in particular?”

“No, just want to hear your voice is all.”

Shouta hums, rising out your hair one final time before drawing out the water and letting it hang over the tub behind you. His footsteps are quiet as he leaves the bathroom, only to return a few moments later. The sound of pages turning makes your eyes fall shut. You give it maybe another five minutes before the water runs cold, or you turn into a prune.

“You’re going to have to let me return the favor, Sho.”

“Not tonight sweet girl.”

Your toes curl at the term of endearment. Sinking a little farther into the tub, you doze off lightly in the comfort of your home, and the warmth of your favorite person wrapping around you with every word he reads.

.... Okay, so I might have made a ahit oc during my downtime. Based on the idea of "yeah the idea of hat kid being a little space orphan doing a job is sad.... But what if they were separated from their family and needed to get back home instead?"

And what if their worried mother came to the planet they were on, looking for them after they'd JUST LEFT like a month ago?

SOOOOOO HERE'S SUMMER!

I may have gotten carried away with myself on this idea-

In Sickness and In Sickness [Eraser Head | Aizawa Shouta]

Content: Fluff, Sick Fic, Sick Character, Established Relationship

Pronouns: None

Header: @/oliries

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

Of course, he would get sick. As if being exhausted fucking constantly wasn’t enough. He just had to overwork to this point. Your stupid fucking wet cat of a husband, doing stupid wet cat of a husband things like being outside while it’s fucking raining and thinking he’ll wake up fine the next day, and on top of that—wait, what were you doing again?

You heard a string of coughs from the bedroom.

Oh, yeah. You were making Lemon Tonic.

For the both of you because he got you both sick.

You coughed into your elbow and looked into the fridge, grabbing a lemon and a bottle of liquor. You placed it on the counter and grabbed a pot from the cabinet. You sniffled as you filled it with water and sat it on the stove. You sliced up half of the lemon (almost cut yourself), put it in the pot and turned on the eye. You opened the bottle and poured a reasonable amount of liquor in there and put it back in the fridge. You left it to boil and went into the bedroom to check on your sick cat-like husband.

You poked your head in, “How you feelin’?”

“Like shit.” He mumbled. You made your way to the bed and flopped down on it.

“Same,” You grabbed a tissue and blew the shit out of your nose, “I wonder who’s fault that is?” You elbowed him in the side. He grunted and shoved your arm away. You started to laugh, but it agitated your lungs, and you ended up in a coughing fit.

After catching a gleam of that bright light, you checked the nightstand for any painkillers and sighed when finding they weren’t there. You begrudgingly got back up and went to get it from the bathroom. You grabbed another box of tissues as well, since Shouta was making a snot rag mountain of his own. You sat it on the nightstand and went back into the kitchen, turned off the eye, then grabbed two water bottles. Quickly dropping them off in the bedroom, you returned to the kitchen and grabbed two mugs, then filled them with the Cold Killing Lemon Tonic.

“Alright,” You sat in the bed and handed him his mug, “Try to drink this quickly.” You took a sip and burnt your tongue, but mama didn’t raise no bitch, so you kept going.

Shouta stared at you for a long time before finally drinking the Lemon Tonic like a shot.

“Okay show off,” You grab the painkillers and water, “you’ll be needing this.” You swallow yours without water like a damn boss, but still drank a bit after to make sure the pills went down.

Shouta again only stared as he did the same sans the after the fact water.

You glared at him a little.

“Now what?” He put the water bottle against his face, “didn’t you say this was sort of a miracle drink?”

“I didn’t say miracle drink,” you got underneath the covers and tucked him in as well, “I said Exorcising Drink.”

Shouta blinked, “What?”

“This drink will literally exorcise the sickness out of you.”

“…”

You gave him a Cheshire grin. “By sweating.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Nope! Now shut up and sweat!” You tucked the covers under your chin even snugglier, “Don’t worry. The sickness will come at you full force, so it’ll probably knock you out pretty quickly.”

He was quiet for a moment, “Remind me to never eat anything from your family again.”

“Yeah sure, no more peach cobbler for you then.”

“I take it back.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, shut up and sweat!”

“I told ya it would work,” You danced around Shouta in the kitchen. “But…”

It was the next day and the both of you were back to full health. Shouta didn’t seem all too pleased about it, though.

“So, why do you look like you’re pissed?”

He groaned, “I have to go back to work,” He shuttered, “back to night patrol.”

You laughed, “Who said we were going back to our jobs,” You nudged him, “we can play out this sickness a little longer.”

He grabbed you by the waist and gave you that maniacal smile that you loved, “I’d like that.” You grabbed him by the cheeks and gave him a quick peck.

“Great! You can take me on a date!”

He gave you a blank stare.

“…or chill at home and call that a date?”

He, like the gentlemen that he was, escorted you to the couch to put on something to watch while he grabbed the snacks.

“Next time we’re going out to eat though!”

Lemon tonic is the truth.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

drew my husband,,,(aizawa) 🙂‍↕️

this originally started as a muscle study/warm up but i was like no lemme make this aizawa ! the obsession continues….